


The Longest Day (Blue)

by TheCumberLadyInTheWoods



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCumberLadyInTheWoods/pseuds/TheCumberLadyInTheWoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can he stay when everything tells him to leave?  Why should he stay when it's never going to change?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

PART I

 

_All I need you give me_

_All I need you give me_

_Our foundation is built upon honesty_

_But now we're fighting, you're trying to walk away_

_How we gonna do this if we don't communicate_

_I'm trying to save what we have so don't walk away_

Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade was furious! The insufferable git had promised! But no work was far more important to his lover than dinner with him. Sitting at the table he had set for two, romantic candle light and all, he fumed over Mycroft Holmes. He loved the man to the point of distraction but damn it to hell he was tired of this. It was the fifth time in as many weeks this had happened. It was so bad he couldn't remember the last time he'd had dinner with his boyfriend.

He had thought moving in with the oldest Holmes brother would make it easier but in reality it just made it harder. On the days he didn't work, which wasn't often, he sat at home surrounded by Mycroft's things and missing him. When he was at work he might actually see Mycroft in passing or arguing with Sherlock, which was more than he could say for when he went home at night. He had tried to visit him at his office once and though Mycroft hadn't said it he could tell he had been worried about what others would think of Lestrade's presence. He'd never attempted to visit his lover again.

_'So the honeymoon phase is over,'_ he thought as he rose from his chair and began to pick up the mess and blow out the candles. He stopped in the doorway leading to the kitchen and stared back at the table. When they had first began this affair it had been so amazing, so breathtakingly wonderful. There had been stolen kisses in Lestrade's office, groping each other in the backseat of the official car that always seemed to be at Mycroft's back and even once in an alleyway when Mycroft had shown up to see Sherlock on a case. They had made time for dinners and the detective had even accompanied the older man to a play once, as his closest friend of course. Then there had been the sex.

_'Well, love making_ ,' Lestrade corrected himself. There was no _just sex_ with Mycroft. The man was full passion and intensity. He dominated Lestrade in the physical expression of their affections and pushed him to his limits. And he'd loved every single sweaty, pleading moment of it. God how he missed the intimacy with his partner. How he missed the time spent cuddling beside Mycroft afterward in some posh hotel they had checked into for convenience or the little cottage by the lake that Mycroft had taken him to after he had closed his last big case, the laughing and talking, the connection. Now they were lucky to squeeze in enough time to just sleep together much less do anything else. He missed Mycroft.

_'Just another meal_ ,' he told himself with a shake of his head and continued on into the kitchen. _'Just like all the ones before it.'_


	2. Chapter 2

PART II

_I know you feel sick and tired of all the pain_

_We cried those tears and between us there's no more rain_

_Let's draw a line in the sand and just art over again_

_Don't let what we have be lost forever_

_I'm drowning, gotta make it back to shore_

_I'm feeling incomplete, can't take no more_

When Mycroft finally made it home he was tired, completely strung out. Everything hurt form the soles of his feet to the top of his head. All he wanted was something to eat, some aspirin, a nice glass of wine and to fall asleep wrapped around his lover. It was upon entering his home he noticed three things which indicated that he might not get exactly what he wanted.

One - his lover was sitting slouched in one of the living room chairs with a glass of whiskey and a fire going and didn't even turn his head to acknowledge his presence which meant he was either asleep or mad...again.

Two - the dining room table still held a place sitting with a napkin draped over the top of the dinner plate. The bumps and dips under the napkin indicated there was food on the plate waiting to be eaten. A bottle of wine sat on the table breathing.

Three - he had missed dinner...again.

Mycroft fought not to groan. Damn and bloody hell! He had forgotten all about tonight. He'd promised Lestrade he'd be here, would have been here had the Queen not called him at exactly 5:02 p.m. concerning a matter of national security that had needed Mycroft's immediate attention. He glanced again into the living room and saw Greg raise the glass. Not asleep then.

He hung his jacket on the coat rack and put him umbrella in the stand. His briefcase was tossed on the antique table sitting beside the door. He walked into the room with his tail between his legs, prepared fully to beg for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry," was the only thing he could think to say as he rounded the chair and stood in front of his lover. Lestrade merely stared on at the fire. He looked haggard and was well on his way to being pissed, a state Mycroft was not unused to finding him in. The amount of alcohol that his lover consumed was starting to concern him. He was slipping away from him and all Mycroft could do was watch and wait for the bottom to fall out. He hated that he didn't know how to fix it. He hated that he didn't know what was wrong. Greg wouldn't talk to him and Mycroft had never been good at sharing his feelings.

"I know," he responded without even looking at him. So apologies weren't going to be enough this time. Begging it was then. He reached out and ran his hand up his lover's arm, watching the shiver that worked its way through him. He enjoyed touching Greg, enjoyed watching his reaction to his caresses. He started to kneel in front of him as he spoke.

"I was on my way out the door when I got a call from a very important..."

"Save it Mycroft. I already told you I understand. I don't need explanations remember. I told you that in the beginning." His lover lifted his glass and slammed the last of the whiskey in the bottom. He stared at the detective. The sharp bite in the tone stiffened his back and made him frown. If Greg wanted to be sullen then he could damn well do it alone. Mycroft was too tired to deal with this tonight.

"I remember very well. I only meant to apologize for my absence." Turning on his heels he stalked back out into the foyer and through to the dining room where he sat down and removed the napkin from the plate. Lemon herb chicken breasts with roasted potatoes and sweet carrots. His favorite, damn!


	3. Chapter 3

PART III

_All I need in the world, you give me_

_I need you like the air that I breath_

_All I need you give me_

_All I need you give me_

_I moved out when you said we needed the space_

_We've had enough time to reconciliate_

_Are you willing to let it all slip away?_

_Don't let what we had be lost forever_

Two weeks later Lestrade moved out of Mycroft's townhouse.

He fully admitted he took the coward's route as he had waited until Mycroft had left for work. Moving back into his old flat hadn't been hard. The Inspector didn't own much. A few pictures, some books, clothes and shoes, a painting he'd bought. All the gifts Mycroft had bought for him he had left in the house, along with the new watch he'd given him a week ago for his birthday. He didn't want to take anything with him. They needed space that much was obvious and having the things Mycroft had bought him would only make him think about the man.

He'd left his ex-lover a note on the coffee table, just a few lines to tell him goodbye and that he'd call or text him when he'd had time to think things through. He didn't intend to actually do it.

The last time had been the last time. He wasn't going back. He didn't see how he could. They were no good together apparently. When they had been apart was when the relationship had been the best. He loved the powerful man but he couldn't be a stay at home boyfriend. He deserved more than that, wanted more than that. Lestrade wasn't ashamed of Mycroft; he didn't understand why he would be ashamed of him.

He was in the middle of hanging his clothes in the closet when his phone chimed. He pulled it out and opened the text message.

_I only wished to tell you I got your note. If you need space take it. -MH_

Short and simple. No words of love, no begging for him to come back.

Disgusted Lestrade threw his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying crack before it shattered into a billion pieces. The moment of pleasure was short lived. Damn it! Now he had to go buy a new phone.

\-- 

When Mycroft had walked into his home earlier today he had instantly felt the chill in the air. He'd called out for Greg, walked room to room looking for him, and then the bottom had dropped out. A note on the coffee table, how...cliché.

_Mycroft,_

_When you read this I'll be gone. I'm moving back into my old flat for a while. I think it would be best if we took some time and space from each other. I'm not happy and in the last seven weeks I've known you weren't happy either. I don't know what else to do but this. I will call or text you in a few weeks and maybe we can talk. I hope you understand._

_Love always,_

_G. Lestrade_

The tears had been hot and instant, quickly followed by the gut wrenching sobs of a man who realized he'd just lost everything.

He allowed himself an hour, just one hour to grieve the loss of his lover. The chill in the air made sense to him now. Without Greg here the warmth of the house was gone, he had taken everything good with him. Mycroft could admit to himself that he had played a part in that. He had been so concerned with what others would think about him having a male lover, hell, having a lover period. His position put him in a difficult spot when it came to personal matters. The more he shared publically, the more ammunition he was giving those who would want to manipulate him. Find a person's weakness and you can get them to do anything. Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade was his one true weakness.

He supposed now he'd just have to get on without him. It would be hard but there was nothing left he could do.


	4. Chapter 4

PART IV

_I'm drowning gotta make it back to shore_

_I'm feeling incomplete can't take this_

_You give me all that I need_

_You give me all that I need_

_You are the air that I breath_

_You are my everything_

_You give me all that I need_  

It had been four months since Lestrade moved out of Mycroft's townhouse. Four, long and horrible months for the British Government official. He hadn't heard from his former lover since that time other than the handful of instances where they had meet at crime scenes with Sherlock. Greg was always so polite and inquired about his life. Sherlock had at first been wildly confused as well as curious about the change in their relationship but had since found a new distraction in Dr. John Watson. The happy announcement had been sent out last week.

It was after receiving said announcement of his younger brother's upcoming nuptials to the compassionate ex-army doctor that he had decided it was time to leave his position in the government and focus on his personal life. He had plenty of money and could live comfortable for some time without the work. Mycroft knew that he needed to step back and figure out where he wanted to go and what he needed to do to get Lestrade back because that's what he had truly wanted from the beginning. Lestrade back in his life and in his arms. He acknowledged that if that was to happen that changes needed to be made, by both himself and his dear detective inspector.

Mycroft supposed that was why he had done it, sent Lestrade the text message asking him to meet him here at their favorite restaurant. Seeing his brother so happily settled had driven home what he had already known all along. Lestrade was his only chance at happiness. Without the older man he had nothing good in his life. Even when they hadn't seen each other for days on end it was still a constant comfort to know that all he had to do was reach into his pocket and withdraw his phone and send off a text to the man and he would respond. It had been the affirmation that Mycroft had always needed but never known.

So he sat and waited and watched the people around him. Three young people sat at a table together, two men and a girl. The two men held hands and watched each other with soft expressions. _We’re in love_ , their body language screamed to anyone who cared to look. The young woman, obviously pregnant, looked miserable as she sat on the opposite side of the table and fiddled with her water glass and plate of pasta. Her gaze landed on the lighter haired of the pair and the look she gave him spoke volumes about where her mind was. _I’m in love with him and he doesn’t even know it._

"Mycroft," the sound of his name spoke by the voice he had missed so very much brought his head around. He rose and without a thought pulled Greg into a hug. He squeezed the man tightly and breathed in the scent of his aftershave and the normal musk that was all him. Lestrade’s arms came around him and gave a brief squeeze in return. Stepping back he noticed that his former lover was smiling. Well, that was a good sign at last.

"It's so good to see you." He responded as he stepped back and pulled Lestrade’s chair out for him. The detective paused for a moment but finally seemed to decide to allow the gesture. There had been a time not so long ago that Lestrade wouldn't have hesitated; he would have expected it because that's what Mycroft did for him. Had four months really changed so much between them? The thought made him want to cry. Once he was settled Mycroft returned to his position across the table. He wanted so badly to reach out and take the older man's hand or to lean across the table and kiss him but he didn't dare. _Too soon_ , he told himself.

"Welcome," the waiter said as he appeared beside the table, dressed simply in a white button front shirt and black trousers. "What can I get for you today?"

"I'll have a glass of the house wine and my companion will have a draft." He ordered and watched as the waiter disappeared. When he turned back to Lestrade the man was watching him. "What?" He inquired.

"You remember my drink order." The DI replied as he picked up the menu. Mycroft knew it was a stalling method, his former lover always ordered the same thing when they were here, Chicken Parmesan.

"Of course," he said picking up his menu as well for much the same reason as Lestrade. He needed a moment to gather himself now that Lestrade was here. "We've only been separated four months." The words slipped out before he could stop them. He glanced over the top of his menu to see the detective was looking at him.

"Ah, really? It feels longer." Mycroft wasn't exactly sure how to take that but was saved from any reply by the waiter’s reappearance with their drinks and to take their orders. Chicken Parmesan for Lestrade and Spaghetti with mushrooms for himself. Silence stretched out between the two men as they both sipped their drinks and observed the people in the restaurant, neither of them looking at each other. Finally Lestrade put his glass down with a _thunk_ and sighed.

"Why did you ask me to meet you here?" The question wasn't said forcefully or with any malice, just a simple inquiry. Mycroft hadn't expected that, he had been prepared to fight with his former lover or beg for his forgiveness. He had not expected such simple acceptable of their situation.

"Because it’s been four months and I needed to see you." He replied as he ran his fingers over the stem of his wine glass and swirled the liquid inside back and forth.

"You just saw me a week ago in your office when I came to drop off some reports to Magistrate Crowley."

"For all of two seconds. I was on my way to a meeting with the Prime Minister of Egypt and I was late because my prior meeting had ran over." The words were said in a sharp tone and he instantly regretted them. This was where they had been the last time. Looking across the table at Lestrade he took a deep breath and apologized. "I'm sorry that was rude."

"Yeah, it was." The reply was short and offered nothing. So he was farther into the dog house than he had realized.

"The point is you said you needed time and space and I have given it too you. I guess I just want to know if you think that there is anything left? Did we totally destroy us or can we salvage the wreckage and rebuild?" The words slipped through just as their food was delivered. Lestrade thanked the waiter while Mycroft ignored the man's presence altogether and focused entirely on the DI.

Lestrade picked up his fork and scoped up a pick of chicken from his plate but stopped just short of actually putting it in his mouth. Laying the fork down he turned his gaze up to his ex. No use in pretending.

"I would like to think we're not completely destroyed but..." Lestrade trailed off as he signed and reached for his beer. He took a deep drink. "We weren't any good together, Mycroft. We were destroying each other and it was toxic. I spent so much time just sitting around waiting on you to get home or call or text. You tangled me up and kept me wrapped around your little finger. I wanted this to be good and when we lived apart it was the best but the moment I moved in with you things changed. Mycroft, you made me feel like you were ashamed of me. I told Sally and Anderson and my ex-wife, hell I was even the one who told Sherlock and John! You didn't tell anyone. I can't and won't live as a secret."

The response surprised Mycroft. So this was what had really torn them apart, his aloofness in public. Reaching across the table he took the DI's hand and entwined their fingers. He saw that Lestrade considered pulling away but thankfully he allowed the touch.

"I was never ashamed of you. My God, how could I be, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. My previous employment placed me in a position where my private life was constantly under scrutiny. I had to be careful of what I did, who I was with and what I said in cause someone should overhear or see and use it against me. I was a very powerful man.” He explained as he watched the man he loved.

“Your previous employment?” Lestrade inquired as he stared across the table at him. His hand was gripping Mycroft’s tightly. Why would Mycroft leave his position? Did he dare hope it was for him? Could this really be as simple as he had said?

“Yes, I left the employment of the British Government three weeks ago now. I realized that I couldn’t be there and still have you.” The words came out and Lestrade felt them flow through him, warming him inside. Rising he pulled Mycroft with him. Stepping around the table he took the man into his arms, _his_ man.

“And you want me in your life?” He inquired wanting to hear the words, wanting to know that he hadn’t misunderstood him.

“My life, my home, my heart, my bed…I’ll take you wherever I can get you dear Inspector.” He smiled as Lestrade smiled and leaned forward to touch his lips to the older mans. Several people around the restaurant had stopped their meals and conversation to listen to them and they clapped and offered well wishes as the couple kissed in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Mycroft pulled away first and felt a blush working its way up onto his cheeks. Lestrade gave a full, deep laugh as he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

“Why don’t we get our meals to go and go back to your place? I have four months of love making to catch up on.” The offer was said loud enough that those who bothered to continue listening heard.

“Okay,” he said and turned to find the waiter already holding out two white boxes.


End file.
